


Hunger

by Fluffysminion



Series: Lost in a Dream of Mirrors [4]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Dark Heresy - Freeform, Mutation Stage: Two, Other, Penumbra (demon world), The Tall and the Smalls, The Warp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffysminion/pseuds/Fluffysminion
Summary: Jaspar has changed, and he slowly comes to realise that the symptoms might not be as bad as the cure.





	Hunger

Jaspar awoke covered in blood. Everything was covered in it; the air was heavy with the stench of it. He climbed to his feet carefully, testing to see if anything had been damaged while he was out. A few bruises but nothing serious. He felt fine, a little hungry but that was normal for him now. Sometimes he struggled to remember what food tasted like before it all became nauseatingly tasteless, and it felt like a lifetime since he had last eaten well. He shook his head, shaking the thoughts into line. He looked around until he found Karger and Nikota, Karger seemed to have dealt with it badly but at least Nikota seemed ok. 

“You alright?” He walked calmly over to the two of them, confident that the danger had passed. Nikota nodded and Karger mumbled something that Jaspar didn’t quite catch, the man seemed pretty shaken. Jaspar put his arm around Karger and began to gently guide him towards the exit that Pear was hurrying off down. “It’ll be ok.” He said, trying to reassure himself as much as the others, trying not to think about Elizabeth or the clotting blood squelching underfoot.

***

It was raining, another one of the strange things about this place that Jaspar was getting used to. The group had taken shelter in a bar full of clocks, and Genevive had asked Nikota some of the meaningless questions that he had asked back when he didn’t understand anything. Karger was repairing his clothes and the imperials were playing a game of “maim the heretic”. They seemed tense, resenting the lack of progress but Jaspar found it didn’t bother him anymore. He wasn’t doing a good job of explaining the rules of the game to Nikota, but she seemed to be getting it anyway. He smiled with pride whenever she worked something out without being told and was almost happy. But there was barking outside, and nothing to eat in here but clocks.

***

After a while the others began to run out of rations. Jaspar’s first thought is that this is inconsiderate of them, can’t they see that there already isn’t enough to go around? 

***

Pear marches on, following the compass, but Jaspar, Nikota and Karger have hung back to pick dark purple berries from a bush growing in one of the window boxes at the side of the street. The wall it is attached to is glass, and the interior of the house is wallpapered with red and cream velvet. They work in silence for a while before Jaspar manages to say what he has been trying to say. 

“I’m sorry for how the others treat you. The way they ignore you and act as if you aren’t there… It’s embarrassing. I know it’s probably what you expect from people like that but-” He trails off and shrugs “I guess I expected better. I don’t know why I keep hoping that things won’t just be the way they are.” He keeps his eyes on his hands as he speaks, and when he has finished speaking he allows himself to eat one of the berries. He has to swallow it quickly before it flakes into ashes on his tongue.

***

The city is dark, it is a time not unlike night. Jaspar lies awake, listening to the comforting sounds of Karger and Nikota sleeping next to him. Hunger keeps him from sleep, forcing him to remain here with his thoughts. They have had little success foraging recently, checking for tree marks takes time and they haven’t been covering as much ground, but he doesn’t feel that’s the problem. After all it doesn’t matter how much food they find if he can’t eat any of it. His problem with taste has been getting worse, and he is afraid of where it is going. At the start things just tasted of ash, and he assumed that it was just a lingering symptom of illness. But now he thinks he can feel food turning to powder in his mouth and he’s not so sure. 

He holds a hand up above his face, and even in the dim light he can make out the bones. He doesn’t need a mirror to tell him that he’s lost a lot of weight since he set out from Juno. Surely the others must have noticed by now. Pear might even be able to do something about it, but Jaspar is afraid to ask. He is afraid that Pear will tell him that the curse can’t be lifted, or worse, that it means he is damned, just like Elizabeth. Best to keep it to himself, where he can pretend that it doesn’t mean anything and can be fixed, and things will be ok again.

Fear grips him and he reaches out to check that the others are still there, needing the reassurance of the warmth of another human being. A voice in his head asks if he still counts as human, or if he has lost that right. He tells himself it might just be madness, but the thought gives him no comfort. He suppresses a sob, not wanting to wake Nikota or Karger, or attract the attention of whoever might be on watch. He stares up into the darkness and tries to ignore the hunger long enough for sleep to take him.

***

Jaspar holds the pieces of Elizabeth’s foot together while Pear works his magic. There is a lot of blood, over Elizabeth and the jaws of the monsters. Jaspar tries not to look at them, at their huge fangs and long mouths. He isn’t very successful. Blood leaks from the wound over Jaspar’s hands and Pear’s mechadendrite, but the metal needles keep working, sewing along cracks concealed by flowing blood that they must find with something other than sight. Pear declares the surgery a success and Jaspar can let go, he wanders off a short distance and tries to forget how hungry he is.

“Jaspar, are you licking your hands?” Genevive’s question snaps him out of the trance he was in and he realises that is indeed what he is doing. 

“Sorry, I…” He darts his (now clean) hands into his pockets and looks away. He is not sure if he is more embarrassed, confused or scared. The taste of Elizabeth’s blood lingers in his mouth and with the scent of it still strong in the air he feels the saliva pooling in his mouth. He swallows, feeling sick.


End file.
